That Moment
by PhangirlTillTheEnd
Summary: *ONE-SHOT* Dan's always been in love with Phil. What happens when the two boys get drunk at a party? *PHAN* I would say It's quite angsty. It's MUCH longer than my other stuff, so that's good. PLEASE review and/or check out my other stories, because I really want to improve, and you can't do that without criticism. :) Rated T because Dan swears, and Chris is vulgar.


**I'm really sorry if everyone sounds a bit OOC, but I wrote this literally at half one this morning. I don't know why. I got the idea from those two pictures of Dan and Phil sat on the floor in someones house/flat drinking. They looked so cute, so why not, eh? Enjoy my awful writing. ~B x**

* * *

Just admit it, you wanted it to happen. well, obviously you did- you wouldn't of done it if you hadn't wanted it. Just because you were drunk made no difference. It just made you lose control of your inhibitions. Which is what always happens when you drink alcohol. You even talked about that in your '5 kinds of drunk people' video. And, just because you said that you may or may not be a sexual predator drunk, did NOT mean that you actually are a sexual predator whilst intoxicated. Use your logic.

* * *

I was very, very drunk to put it lightly. It was some YouTuber's party to celebrate a certain huge number of subscribers, and Alex knew the YouTuber. which meant Charlie got invited. Which meant Phil and I got invited. Which meant Peej and Chris got invited. I have a funny feeling that's where we went wrong.

You see, when Chris parties, he _parties_. Like literally, fully blownout-drunk to the point of no remembrance-let's just have sex with anyone and have no regrets kind of drunk. So naturally, he was forcing shot, after shot, after shot down everyone's throats.

However, when he started to ask people if they wanted an orgy, I should of realized that that was the point of no return. Everyone was extremely out of it, apart from the few that were dedicated drivers, or just weren't drinking.

It hadn't helped that I had an existential crisis that same morning, about how Phil would never love me, either. That just urged me to drink _more_ than I usually do. And although I'm not as bad as my friend Crabstickz, I'm still worse than most.

* * *

"Gaaaaaaame time!" Sang Alex.

"Is it just me, or did he just say 'gay time'?"

"I'M UP FOR GAY TIME!" Shouted Chris.

"You're up for anytime, you twat."

"Don't say you don't love it, sexy." And with an /extremely/ flirtatious wink towards PJ, Chris found the app on his phone for the popular game 'Truth or Dare' and rounded the troops into a circle for the general merriment.

"Do you want to play, Dan?"

"I-err." I looked into Phil's hopeful baby-blue eyes and found myself accepting the very question I wanted to refuse. This is exactly why I hated Phil sometimes. He could make me do anything he wanted at the drop of a hat- whether he knew it or not.

Funnily enough, not everyone wanted to play this particular game. So our circle was rather small- It was only Alex, Carrie, Charlie, Peej, Chris, some girls I didn't know called Meghan and Tay, another unknown guy called Mat and then Phil and I. Everyone else seemed to slink off to the kitchen for more drinks.

"Okay, so, who wants to go first?"

"Meeee! Give me your best dare, Day."

"Okay, Carrie, you have to.. Lick the persons face to your right."

Seeing it was Charlie, she just shrugged, and went ahead with the dare.

"Your face tastes like apples."

"Awesome!"

I didn't really understand why everyone was in such hysterics for the rest of this game- maybe it's because they were long past the point of caring that they genuinely didn't understand what the fuck they were doing. I, on the other hand, wasn't nearly drunk enough. I could still _feel_ everything. Like the way I felt paralyzed under Phil's eyes.. The effect he had on me was far too painful. It still hurt that he won't ever love me back. The joys of unrequited love, eh?

"Dan, truth or dare?" Meghan- or was it Tay?- shouted at me, bringing me out of my trance.

"I think I'll just sit this one out, actually."

"Don't be such a bore, Danyull." Alex whined.

"I'm just going to go get a drink."

linebreak

It was much quieter in the kitchen. It seems the people that were occupying it earlier had moved on upstairs, to the roof. I didn't blame them, it was a lovely night, if you weren't pained by the aches of a broken heart.

I significantly remember grabbing a bottle of some sort of high-alcoholic percentage beverage off of the side. I didn't bother with cups, just swigged out of the bottle. It numbed me, slightly. It made me happier. I say happier, I mean less aware of the sadness. That pretty much sums up my life.

For some reason, I started crying at that point. I guess it just got all too much, and my emotions were everywhere. I had no idea _who_ I was crying for. I guess it was for me; for my shit childhood; for my awkward teen years; for the 'strength' I had kept up all those years. I cried for every single moment I had with Phil- From all the insignificant to the significant I cried for the first day we met- the day my life ended, but begun at the same time. I cried for my wasted love that I had lavished upon someone who hadn't even noticed. I cried for _him_ even though he didn't deserve my tears.

* * *

I must of spent more time in the kitchen than I had originally thought, because the game had come to an abrupt end and everyone had gone back into dance mode. My eyes were just drawn to the soft-haired lion in the corner, wedged between a hard sofa and a radiator that wasn't turned on.

I just climbed my way through the throng of people- who had, once again, moved to the living room/party arena- so I could sit next to my adorable, clueless manchild.

"Daan! I missed you, where'd you go?" He slurred, slinging his right arm over me, protectively.  
"Just to get another drink. See?" I indicated my bottle, and offered him a sip.  
"Thaanks."  
We sat there for a good ten minutes, just watching everyone having fun. He started to nest his way into my chest, almost asleep. I didn't have the heart to move him. Or the strength, really. Not physical strength, although we all know how much I'm lacking in that department, but emotional strength. Because I knew that the moment he moved, I would never get this feeling back. The feeling of someone wanting me, whether they're drunk or sober. The fact that it was Phil in this position was just an added bonus, really.  
"You're so cushy."  
"You calling me fat, Philly?"  
"NO!" and then he giggled in the most adorable way that it made my heart throb.

What I did next shouldn't of happened. It should never of occurred but for some unknown reason- it did. He was just so close and so vulnerable, and I was just too much in love.  
"Phil." I said, softly.  
"Yeah, Llama-boy?"  
I think that must of been the trigger. He hadn't called me that since we very first met- when he first found out my love of the weird animals. Since I first knew that I loved him.

I kissed him.  
I didn't care that people might of seen us, or if they took pictures.  
I needed to show him that I had loved him, and had done for all those years.  
Most surprisingly, he kissed back.  
I knew he was drunk, and possibly wouldn't remember it the next day, but that didnt bother me. I had my moment with him. And I would remember it forever. But then he stopped kissing. He just smiled at me- a proper, warm smile- and asked me if we could go home.  
I, of course, obliged his wishes.

* * *

When I woke up, I was in a bed that wasn't mine, curled around a beautiful boy called Phil. I just watched him while he slept for a moment or two. He was so.. just everything. He was indescribable.

Needless to say, he was more than a bit creeped out to wake up to my brown eyes boring into his. He just looked at me, eyes clouded in confusion, and asked "Why are you in my room? What happened last night?"

He didn't remember. He remembered nothing. He didn't remember us kissing, he didn't remember me telling him that I loved him and he certainly didn't remember him telling me the same.

I don't know how I got myself into it. I thought that I was going to be finally happy- we loved each other and we could start a life together, get married, maybe have some children. I just didn't think. I was clouded by my love for him, and didn't know what to do.  
And so I had to make a cover-up. It was for his benefit, I didn't want him to feel awkward around me. Our friendship was all I had left.

"We both got really drunk, and I brought us home. We must of fallen asleep together."  
"Oh, right. Makes sense. I'm gonna go have a shower."  
"Ok. I'll go... make breakfast. Delia Pancakes?"  
"The best hangover cure." He shot a smile at me, and walked towards the bathroom.

Somehow, I didn't break down, crying. I just walked calmly to the kitchen and started making the batter. Sure, we would never be together, but I had to come to terms with that.  
I still had that one, magical moment, and that would have to be good enough.

* * *

**That was full of feels, if I say so myself. If you have time to review and/or check out my other stories, that would be amazing! Also, the length is getting better, isn't it? I feel so proud of myself.**


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